The Schizophrenic
by A. L. Nowicki
Summary: Elaine dates a man with two personalities. Kramer has a holiday job at Macy's. The holidays are stressing Jerry out, and George celebrates another Costanza family holiday. Rated T for a murder.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters except for Gerry/Roger and Casprine/Kirkley.

**Summary: **Elaine dates a man with two personalities. Jerry is the epitome of holiday stress. Kramer gets a holiday job, and George celebrates another Costanza family holiday.

**Author's Note:** Here's a _Seinfeld _holiday story that I wrote a while back. It's actually a Thanksgiving story, but there's a lot of Christmas/Hannukah influence in it. Also, throughout the run of the series, we know that Jerry's Jewish, but we're never told if he celebrates Christmas or Hannukah. But, for the purposes of this story, he's going to celebrate Hannukah. I think that's it...so have fun!

* * *

**The Schizophrenic**

Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza were walking down the produce aisle of the supermarket.

"Look at these bananas," George said, picking up a pair of bananas. "Why are they shaped like this?"

Jerry just rolled his eyes. "I'm not looking for bananas, George. I'm looking for a turkey, because I have to host my parents for Thanksgiving on Thursday. I have so much to do. I have to cook this whole big meal, I have to pick my parents up from the airport, I have to keep Newman _away_ from the meal, I have to clean my entire apartment…George, I'm just so stressed out!" Jerry buried his head in his hands.

"At least you don't have to go shopping on Black Friday," said George.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I mean…sure you have Hanukkah, but you don't commercialize the meaning out of it!"

"You're talking about Christmas?" Jerry asked him. "But George, you don't celebrate Christmas. You celebrate--"

"Shhhhhh!" George hushed him before he could say the dreaded F-word. "I refuse to celebrate that holiday. I'm going back to celebrating Christmas."

Jerry and George walked in silence for a while, trying to find their way to the turkeys. "Why is it called Black Friday, anyway?" Jerry asked after a while.

"I don't know," said George. "Maybe because the abundance of cars in the parking lot creates pounds and pounds of that unnatural black snow."

Jerry shrugged. "It could be because the abundance of people just walking around the mall creates this mob, this unhealthy mob, almost like a black cloud of people all doing their shopping at once." He started inspecting the turkeys in the meat aisle. "How big of a turkey should I get? 16-pound? 20-pound?"

"Get a 20-pound," George advised.

"Why?"

"I may have to come over and join you and your parents for Thanksgiving."

"Why? Don't you like going to Thanksgiving at your house?"

"NO!"

"Why not?"

George hesitated. "Jerry, you've met my family," he said at last.

"Yes, that's true."

* * *

A while later, Jerry and George were back at Jerry's apartment. Jerry was seated at his kitchen table, making a list of all the things he had to do for Thanksgiving. 

"Cook the entire meal…clean the apartment…pick Mom and Dad up from the airport…keep Kramer busy so he doesn't bother me," he mumbled, writing them all down. He paused after a moment, taking his breath in slowly to make sure he didn't go to pieces from all the stress.

Suddenly, Cosmo Kramer barged in as usual. "Hey, Jerry! Guess what?" he asked excitedly.

"What?"

"I got a job at Macy's! You know, just making some extra cash for the holidays."

"That's great, Kramer!" Jerry congratulated him. "Are you working on Black Friday?" he grinned.

"I don't know."

"Hey, Kramer," said a voice from behind them. Newman had just sauntered in. Taking a look around Jerry's apartment, he noticed Jerry. "Hello, Jerry."

"Hello, Newman," said Jerry in disgust.

"Anyway," Newman said, turning his attention back to Kramer, "what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know. What are _you_ doing for Thanksgiving?"

At once, Newman lost all control and began to sob on Kramer's shoulder. "I don't know!!!" he cried. "I have no one, no girl…nothing!!!!"

Kramer calmed his friend down. "Well, if you're looking for a girl," he said casually, "I'm sure Jerry could fix you up with one. He's already dated Casprine Sterling." (**Author's Note**: I wrote another story after 'The Bleach Pen' and right before this one about Jerry dating George's ex-girlfriend Casprine Sterling, the beautiful Broadway star. I'll post that one some other time.)

"KRAMER!!!" yelled Jerry, jumping up from the kitchen table. He hated it when Kramer (or anyone else, for that matter) mentioned Casprine Sterling in front of him. He had a tendency to reach for the chocolate ice cream and start sobbing like a broken-hearted, middle-aged woman.

"I'm sorry, Jerry!" Kramer apologized sincerely, running over to block the freezer so that Jerry couldn't get to the ice cream. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking--"

"Get out of my way," Jerry mumbled, trying to fight to get to the freezer door.

"_No_, Jerry," said Kramer firmly. "You can do without the ice cream. You're spiraling out of control! Pull yourself together!"

Jerry swallowed a large lump in his throat and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. "I need to start pulling myself together." He paused to wipe his eyes once more. "I'll just have a ginger ale."

"That's my boy," said Kramer, patting Jerry on the back.

"Hold on a second," said Newman, interested. "Jerry, you dated Casprine Sterling, the _actress_? Can you give me her number?"

"NO!"

"Oh, come on, why not?"

"She doesn't deserve you, Newman. I'm not going to put her through it!" Jerry declared in his high-pitched comedic whine.

* * *

The next day, Jerry and George were at the coffee shop when Elaine Benes walked in. 

"Is everything okay, Jer? You look terrible!" she exclaimed.

Jerry looked up at her. His face was pale and sweaty, and he kept tugging at his hair as a stress reliever. "I'm okay," he managed through a gulp. "Still very stressed out, though."

"I know, Gerry's very stressed out, too."

"Who's Gerry?" George asked.

"Gerry took me out to dinner last night. He has his own radio show on 103.5 FM."

"Oh! Is he that guy with the very distinctive voice?"

Elaine laughed. "Yep, that's him!"

"Does he really talk like that in real life? Or does he do that voice just for the radio?"

"Nope, that's his real life voice!"

"Wow," George said, impressed.

Elaine looked at Jerry once more. "Jerry, are you sure you're okay? You're not really saying much."

"I'm _fine!"_ he snapped at her. "Just very stressed out, is all!"

"You don't have to _yell_ at me!" Elaine nearly shouted at him.

Thankfully, their bickering stopped when Frank Costanza walked into the coffee shop. "George!" he said, coming over to where his son was sitting. "Happy Kinlyntoode!" George just buried his head in his arms.

"What's Kinlyntoode?" asked Jerry, confused.

"Kinlyntoode is the holiday we celebrate every November on Thanksgiving night," Frank declared. "George's mother cooks a pot of corn dogs. And then we go around the table and express all our regrets for the past year. And then we each take a plate of corn dogs, go up to our rooms, and eat with the doors closed and the blankets over our heads!"

Jerry and Elaine just looked at each other in confusion.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Macy's, Kramer was getting ready to take his morning break when the manager came in. 

"Cosmo, I need you to work on Black Friday," the manager told him. "You need to be here at 4:30 a.m."

"_Four-thirty_?!?!"

"Yeah, everyone needs to be here at four-thirty. Everybody is working Black Friday."

The manager left, and Kramer sank against the counter, overwhelmed. Four-thirty in the _morning_? How was he going to pull _this _one off?

Kramer was still pondering the answer to this when he heard a scream coming from the men's department. "MURDER!!!" a female costumer was screaming. "There's been a MURDER at Macy's!!!! Someone call the police!!!!"

Concerned, Kramer dashed over to the men's department. Lying facedown on the floor was a blonde-haired man in a black overcoat lying facedown on the floor, with a knife sticking out of his back. Costumers were collecting near the body and gasping in horror.

"All right, everyone calm down!!" Kramer yelled, taking a roll of police tape out of his pocket. "Call the police," he said to a fellow Macy's employee.

While his co-worker was off calling the police, Kramer continued to block off the crime area using the police tape. After he finished, he knelt down near the body to search for clues.

Lying near the dead man's left hand was a piece of a blue scarf. Kramer picked it up and examined it in fascination.

* * *

That afternoon, Jerry went to pick up his parents at the airport. 

"Jerry, you look so pale!" Helen Seinfeld said, looking at her son in concern. "Are you sick?"

"No, just really stressed out," Jerry sighed. "You wouldn't believe all the things I have to do to prepare for tomorrow. And of course Hanukkah is coming up, so I have to get started preparing for that." He paused and took several deep breaths. "Mom, Dad…I'm a mess!"

Helen hugged her son. "It's okay, Jerry. Your father and I will help you through it. We know how stressful the holidays are."

"Everything's going to be fine, Jerry. Just hang in there," Morty Seinfeld encouraged.

Back at Jerry's apartment, Kramer was looking after things while borrowing Jerry's iron to iron his good suit for Black Friday. He had just finished ironing his pants when there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Kramer," said Newman. "Do you know Casprine Sterling's number? If Jerry won't give it to me, I know you will."

"Actually, Newman, _no_, I _don't_ know her number," Kramer told him. "But even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you. I have to respect Jerry's wishes."

"Please, Kramer, _please_!! I'm sure Jerry has it written down somewhere. All you need to do is find it and give it to me!!"

"I told you, Newman!! _No_, I _won't_ do it!! Now, I have a lot of work to do; I'm working on Black Friday, and I need to get everything ready. So just leave me alone, okay?" Kramer took the iron and retreated to Jerry's bedroom.

Newman was starting to go mad. If he couldn't call Casprine Sterling, who was he going to spend Thanksgiving with?

All Newman felt was rage, and the need for revenge against Jerry. The feelings were driving him to hunger, not to mention dementia. "I'll get you, Jerry!" Newman growled angrily as he stomped back to his own apartment down the hall. "I'm going to _get_ you!!!" He stopped and paused. "Just as soon as I find a satisfying snack," he admitted.

That night, Elaine was having dinner with Gerry. Gerry was a tall man with a big, booming voice, and he couldn't stop talking about this person named Roger.

"So Roger and I showed up for work today, and Roger's wearing these pink flowered shorts," Gerry said. "I asked him why, and he said it's because he just got back from a cruise last week and he's still in the tropical kind of mood."

Elaine laughed. "But wait…did _you _get back from a cruise last week, too?"

"Yeah, Roger and I went together. We always travel together. In fact, we broadcasted our radio show right from the deck of the ship."

"That must have been fun. I can't wait to meet Roger sometime."

"Roger probably wants to meet you, Elaine."

Gerry's voice was so loud and distinct that people could hear him throughout the restaurant. While he was talking to Elaine, a man from the next table over approached their table.

"Hey, are you Gerry Christiansen?" the man asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Wow!" the man exclaimed. "I listen to your radio show all the time! I like Roger; Roger's very funny."

"I'll have to tell Roger," Gerry replied.

"I loved yesterday show about the Worst Taxi Drivers in New York," the fan continued, laughing. "But everything started getting confusing when this man came on the show and started talking about…what was it, a sale at Victoria's Secret, or something?"

The fan was only kidding, but Gerry seemed to take the insult seriously. He stood up, cocked his head to the side, and spoke in a whiny, nasally voice that was _clearly_ not him. "Listen, you!!" the nasally voice yelled. "I can run my show the way I want to!! Is that clear??!?!"

The fan just stared at him. "Fine," he said quietly. "I was just trying to make a joke." The fan walked away, and Gerry cooled off and sat back down.

Elaine just stared at Gerry, confused.

* * *

The next day was Thanksgiving. George received a call at his apartment at about ten-thirty in the morning. 

"George, this is your father," Frank Costanza's voice shouted over the phone. "I demand you come over for Kinlyntoode tonight at seven o' clock!"

"Kinlyntoode?" asked George, desperately. "But Dad, I was planning to go over to Jerry's to celebrate Thanksgiving."

"You're not going to Jerry's, you're _coming over here_! Is that clear?" Frank yelled.

George sighed. "Okay, Dad."

Over at Jerry's apartment, Kramer was watching over things again while Morty and Helen were attending the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and Jerry was out getting cranberry sauce (Jerry was so stressed out he had forgotten to buy cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving dinner.)

Kramer was running down a list of things he needed to do to prepare for Black Friday. Next on his list was "set alarm clock to 4:00 a.m."

Kramer nodded to himself, got up from Jerry's table, and went across the hall to his apartment to set his alarm clock for 4:00 a.m. As soon as Kramer disappeared inside his own apartment, Newman came slyly creeping down the hall.

"The perfect way to get revenge against Jerry," Newman whispered to himself, his eyes shining and his body trembling with rage, revenge, hunger, and dementia all at once. "Steal his Thanksgiving turkey! He can't possibly handle the stress of having his turkey stolen! He'd fall apart!"

Newman crept into Jerry's apartment and opened Jerry's oven. The 20-pound turkey was still baking, and was nearly done.

After looking around Jerry's kitchen, Newman grabbed two potholders and lifted the turkey out of the oven. Shutting the over door with his foot, Newman then walked out of Jerry's apartment as carefully as he could, taking care to be extra quiet so Kramer couldn't hear anything suspicious going on.

Newman got inside his apartment just as Kramer opened his door again. He went back across the hall, sat down at Jerry's table, and crossed "set alarm to 4:00 a.m." off his list.

Another task done.

* * *

A while later, Jerry came home with the cranberry sauce. He said hello to Kramer, asked him if anything unusual had happened while he was gone, set the cranberry sauce on the kitchen counter, and opened the oven to check on the turkey.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"What is it, buddy?" Kramer asked, jumping up from the table in a state of worry.

"THE TURKEY'S GONE!!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO IT????"

"The turkey can't be gone!" Kramer exclaimed, going over to the oven to take a look for himself. After seeing the empty oven, he just furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Huh. That's weird," he muttered.

"_I can't believe the turkey's gone! I trust you to look after everything for a couple of minutes while I run out to get cranberry sauce, and now I come back and it's gone!!! _WHAT HAPPENED?!? WHAT WILL I DO, KRAMER?!??" Jerry screamed in a panic.

"Jerry, just calm down," Kramer said calmly. "Take a deep breath. You're almost as bad as that time Crazy Joe Davola called and said he was going to put a kibosh on you."

"_How can you think of him at a time like this! Kramer, the turkey's gone_!!"

Jerry was still panicking when Mr. and Mrs. Seinfeld returned from watching the parade. "Jerome Seinfeld, what is the _matter _with you?" Helen scolded her son. "We can hear you yelling from all the way down the hall!"

"But Mom, my turkey's gone! I went out to get some cranberry sauce, I came back, and the turkey's gone from the oven!" Jerry cried.

"I don't know what happened to it, Jerry, I swear!" Kramer added truthfully.

"Okay, well, just calm down, Jerry," Helen said calmly. "Take a deep breath. Everything's going to be okay." She put a hand on her son's back.

"It's not the end of the world, son," added Morty. "If we can't have our dinner here, we'll just have to go out to dinner."

"That's a good idea," Helen nodded to her husband.

"Go _out_ to dinner!" Jerry yelped. "Mom, Dad…we can't go out for Thanksgiving dinner!"

"Jerry, calm down right now before you have a panic attack!" Helen exclaimed.

"But Mom!" Jerry cried.

"Jerry, stop it. We'll all go out to dinner, and we'll have a great time," Helen said.

"Would you like to come with us, Kramer?" Morty added.

"Giddy-up!" Kramer exclaimed, giving him the thumbs-up. "By the way, Jerry," he added. "Do you mind if I borrow your manicure set? I want to look professional for Black Friday."

* * *

Jerry went to his bedroom to change for dinner. As he was buttoning his suitcoat, the phone rang. 

"Hello?"

"Jerry, I'm afraid of Gerry," came Elaine's voice.

Jerry started laughing. "Why would you tell me that you're afraid of me?"

"No, I'm not afraid of _you_. I'm afraid of Gerry with a G."

"Why?"

"Well, this fan of his came up to us while we eating dinner, and kind of insulted him by accident. Gerry started talking in this really creepy nasally voice, with his head cocked to the side. It wasn't like Gerry at all, Jerry."

Jerry sighed. "Listen, what are you doing tonight?"

"Gerry and I were going to have dinner here at my place. Why?"

"Well, my family was going to try and have a nice Thanksgiving here at my place, but it looks like that isn't going to work out, so we're going to have to go out for dinner. Would you and Gerry like to join us? I really want to meet this guy."

There was a pause. "Sure," Elaine said finally. "I think Gerry comes from a family where they do things like that. He'll feel right at home."

* * *

An hour later, Morty, Helen, and Jerry Seinfeld were walking down the street with Kramer, Elaine, and Gerry. They were trying to find a restaurant that was open.

"Tomorrow is Black Friday," Gerry mused as he walked beside Elaine.

"Do you go shopping on Black Friday?" Elaine asked him.

"No, but I like to watch. Maybe Roger and I will go to the mall tomorrow and broadcast our radio show from the mall."

"That sounds like fun," Kramer interjected, walking behind the couple. Kramer liked Gerry okay, but there was something suspicious about him, and Kramer couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"It's cold out here," Gerry shivered, tightening the blue scarf around his neck.

"You got that right," Kramer added, eyeing Gerry's blue scarf with the mindset that he'd seen it somewhere before.

"Maybe we should just have dinner at the coffee shop, all six of us," Jerry said, walking beside his parents. "I honestly don't think there's any place that will take us without reservations."

"Don't worry, we'll find someplace," Helen said reassuringly to her son. "We'll have Thanksgiving dinner, Jerry. Just calm down, everything's going to be fine."

Jerry was so busy conversing with his mother that he ran right into George, who was walking in the opposite direction carrying four boxes of corn dogs.

"George!"

"_Jerry_? What are you guys doing?"

"Change of plans. We're going out to eat," Jerry replied. "Don't ask how it happened, but the turkey got stolen. So we're on our way to a restaurant."

"You can always eat at our house," George offered. "We're celebrating Kinlyntoode, and there's room for more."

"NO!" said Morty and Helen simultaneously.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," added Jerry. "No offense, George."

"Come on, Jerry! I don't want to go through it alone!" George begged his friend.

"Kinlyntoode? What's Kinlyntoode?" Kramer asked. George explained it to him.

"Whoa," Gerry commented.

"Sounds like one screwed-up holiday," Kramer added. "But what the heck. I'm in!"

"You're in? Oh, thank you! Thank you, Kramer!" George said gratefully.

"You know what? Count me in, too," Gerry said. "Come on, Elaine. It'll be fun."

"Well, if _you're_ all going," Jerry said quietly, "then I guess maybe I should--"

"NO!" Morty said.

"No, Jerry," Helen added, grabbing her son's hand. "Come on, we're going out to eat as a family."

"Mom, I don't think George should be put through this alone. Come on, we'll only stay for a few minutes. And then we can leave."

Morty and Helen Seinfeld looked at each other. "All right," Morty grumbled. "I guess we're all going."

* * *

A while later, all seven of them had managed to get to Frank and Estelle Costanza's house in Queens. Frank and Estelle, however, were not very happy at seeing who their son had brought home for Kinlyntoode. 

"Seinfeld!" Frank bellowed at Morty. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Your son invited me!" Morty yelled back to Frank.

"Why did you invite the Seinfelds over for Kinlyntoode?" Frank yelled at George. "You know they think they're too good for us!"

"We don't think that!" Helen exclaimed, horrified.

"Why don't we just forget about who's here and who's not here, and celebrate a wonderful holiday?" George asked through gritted teeth. "Come on, let's sit at the table. Ma, are the corn dogs ready yet?"

"They're right here," called Estelle, walking through the kitchen door with her arms laden in plates of corn dogs. Frank, George, Estelle, Kramer, and Gerry took their seats around the table. The Seinfelds and Elaine just stood around uneasily.

"Now," said Frank, sitting at the head of the table. "It is the custom of Kinlyntoode to go around the table and express their regrets. Me first." He paused and turned to Morty. "Morty Seinfeld, I regret that I ever met you!" he bellowed. "I regret that your son and my son ever became friends in the first place, so I wouldn't have to put up with you! In fact, I regret that I ever met ANY of you people! You people make me SICK!!"

"Helen Seinfeld, I regret that I met you," Estelle added.

"I regret that I ever took that job at Macy's," Kramer said next. "I don't want to work on Black Friday. Who gets up at four-thirty in the morning, anyway?"

"I regret the fact that I'm celebrating Kinlyntoode," George mumbled. "I could be over celebrating Thanksgiving with Jerry's family instead."

"Elaine, I regret that you and I haven't been able to spend more time together," Gerry said, getting into the spirit, but in a different way. "If I weren't so busy at the radio station, you and I could have developed a wonderful relationship." Elaine smiled, showing all of her teeth.

"Very nice," Frank nodded. "Anyone else for expressing their regrets?" he looked over at the Seinfelds and Elaine. However, Morty and Helen were just looking at each other, irritated. Jerry and Elaine were staring at each other in confusion.

"Well, since no one else cares to express their regrets, next we go to our rooms with a plate of corn dogs, and eat our corn dogs in bed with the blankets over our heads." Frank took a plate of corn dogs. "However, since we don't have enough beds for all the guests, whether they care to join us or not is optional." He took one last glare at Morty and Helen before going up the stairs to his room.

"Come on, Georgie," Estelle added, grabbing her plate of corn dogs and going up the stairs.

"Does someone want to share my bed?" George asked the guests hopefully.

"Companionship is forbidden, George!!" yelled Frank.

"No, I'd rather remain down here," said Kramer. "Eating corn dogs with a blanket over my head. What kind of a screwed-up holiday is this?" he muttered, shaking his head.

"Come on, Gerry, let's just wait down here," said Elaine quietly.

"Okay," said Jerry and Gerry in unison.

"I meant _that_ Gerry," she said softly, pointing at Gerry Christiansen.

"Son, you're not going anywhere," Morty added to Jerry. "You're staying right here with us."

* * *

The Seinfelds, Elaine, Gerry, and Kramer waited in the living room uncomfortably. Finally, Gerry stood up, tightened the blue scarf around his neck, and said, "May I be excused? I want to check on something upstairs." Elaine nodded tiredly, and Gerry headed up the stairs.

A few minutes later, Kramer also stood up. "Excuse me," he said to the group as he followed Gerry upstairs, suspicious. Kramer was determined to see what Gerry had up his sleeve; he still didn't trust him one hundred percent.

As he headed up the stairs, determined not to let Gerry see him, Kramer reached into his pocket and pulled out a Polaroid camera; Kramer kept a camera on him at all times, just in case of an emergency.

Just ahead of him, Gerry had stopped in front of Frank and Estelle's bedroom, and was quietly opening the door. More suspicious than ever, Kramer still followed.

Why would Gerry creep into Frank and Estelle's bedroom like that? Deciding to bust this thing wide open, Kramer ran up to Frank and Estelle's door, madly flung it open with his foot, snapped a picture with his camera and yelled, "CAUGHT YOU!"

* * *

"But Officer, I didn't do anything!" Gerry gasped as a police officer put him in handcuffs. After Kramer found Gerry trying to attack Frank with a knife in his bedroom, he had called the police.

"Mr. Christiansen, we got a picture of you in the act," the police officer said, holding out a Polaroid picture. In the picture, Gerry was holding the knife, his head cocked to the side and his mouth wide open. He had an unusual expression on his face: an expression of excitement and insanity.

"That isn't me!" Gerry exclaimed. "That's Roger! _Roger_ tried to kill Frank Costanza!"

"Wait…wait a minute," Elaine said quietly. She had been shaky ever since Kramer snapped the picture. "So…Roger isn't a real person at all? He's just someone who lives inside you?"

Gerry cocked his head to the side and began to speak in that nasally voice Elaine had heard once before. "What do you _mean_, I'm not a real person?" he asked. "Of _course_ I'm a real person! It's me, Elaine! I'm Roger!"

"R—Roger? You're not _you_, you're Gerry!"

Gerry straightened his head and spoke in his normal voice. "Don't insult Roger, Elaine. He's very fond of you."

"Gerry, stop it!" Elaine yelled.

"Elaine, could you stop saying my name? It's kind of confusing me," Jerry said quietly.

Gerry cocked his head to the side and spoke in Roger's voice. "_You're_ confused?"

"Okay, I've seen enough," the police officer said, dragging Roger/Gerry outside. "Whoever you are, you're coming with me."

* * *

The next day was Black Friday. Stores and shopping malls all across the greater New York area were packed as shoppers began the holiday shopping season. 

Frank Costanza was at Macy's looking at perfumes. He picked one up and began to sniff it. "I like the smell of this perfume," he said. "Excuse me, Kramer…what's this one called?"

Kramer, who was working the perfume counter, picked up the sample. "Ah," he smiled. "This, Frank, is called Heaven's Fire."

"Heaven's Fire!" exclaimed a familiar voice. Morty Seinfeld, with Jerry in tow, had just reached the perfume counter. "That's the perfume Helen said she wanted. I should get her that as a Hanukkah gift. Kramer, may I have a bottle of that?"

"I'd like a bottle, too, Kramer," Frank added.

Kramer checked beneath the counter. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, I'm afraid that this bottle is the last one available." He paused. "You know, Heaven's Fire was first bottled by Filene's in Boston in 1993. It's a heavenly mixture of roses and burnt ash, guaranteed to give any woman the scent of voluptuous passion--"

Meanwhile, Frank and Morty had started a fight over the last bottle of perfume. They had tackled each other to the ground and were now trying to injure each part of the other that they could find.

"Dad, _stop it_!" Jerry cried. "Let Mr. Costanza have it! I'll get my friend Kirkley to send me a bottle from Boston!"

But Morty wasn't listening. He kept on attacking Frank.

"Oooh." Kramer peered over both of them. "It looks like your father gave Frank a black eye, Jerry."

Jerry laughed nervously. "I guess that's why they call it Black Friday."

THE END

* * *

**Author's Note: **And that's the end. Just another silly little story. Reviews are appreciated! 


End file.
